


writhing under your riding hood

by sweetheartbitterheart



Series: fairytale AUs [2]
Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Apocalypse
Genre: Alternate Universe - Little Red Riding Hood Fusion, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Werewolves, fairytale AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-14
Updated: 2018-11-25
Packaged: 2019-08-23 12:22:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16618877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetheartbitterheart/pseuds/sweetheartbitterheart
Summary: Mallory took a trip to visit her grandmother every five weeks or so, undaunted by the tales of monstrous wolves lurking in the forest surrounding their village. She knew the forest was dangerous at night, but if she kept to the same path she always took she'd surely be alright.a little red riding hood au





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Looks like I finished this just in time for the finale! I wish this was written better but I tried. I wanted it to be a bit darker but I guess I can't really write like that. Anyways enjoy :)
> 
> Title from Wolf Like Me by TV on the Radio

_I said: I could be a wolf for you._  
_I could put my teeth on your throat_  
_I could growl. I could eat you whole._  
_I could wait for you in the dark._  
_I could howl against your hair._  
\- Catherynne M. Valente

-

There were so many stories about the forest near their village. Stories of young men ravaged by an unseen animal, a young mother travelling from a neighboring village bruised and scratched up with no explanation, people went in at night and never returned. Children claimed to see big black creatures with glowing eyes. Most people were unsure of what exactly inhabited the forest. Rabid wolves, werewolves, demons. It was only known that there was something living out there, strange and dangerous, and nobody should go into the forest at night.

Mallory was on her routine trip to her grandmother's cottage she took every five weeks or so. Her granny lived near the very edge of the village, practically in the forest itself, hence the most people finding her very unusual. Sure, her granny was a little odd, but she meant well. She taught Mallory to respect nature and animals, even ones that could be frightening. She seemed to know of things before they happened. She supposed her granny knew of the creatures in the forest and was not frightened of them.

Mallory's cloak trembled behind her in the wind as she made her way down the dirt path. She pulled the red fabric closer to her body, protecting herself against the cold. She glanced up at the sky, which was quickly getting darker. She should've left home earlier, shouldn't have spent so much time talking to Myrtle Snow in the village, the older woman was kind but known for talking incessantly. She knew the forest was dangerous at night. It wasn't that she couldn't handle herself. She was a perfectly capable young woman, but that didn't make her any less uneasy.

A particularly harsh wind blew Mallory's hood off her head, and she tugged it back on. She thought she heard a howl in the distance. Her heart stuttered in her chest. It was only gossip, bred of fear, she reminded herself and sped up her pace. No knowledge of the creature following behind her with careful eyes.

The moon was high in the sky by the time she reached her grandmother's cottage. Nearly sprinting the last mile, Mallory was anxious to be in the presence of her grandmother. It was eerily quiet as she approached the door, knocking softly before letting herself.

"Granny?" she called. It was mostly dark inside, only a few candles were lit and the hearth was nearly burnt out.

When no response came, Mallory's panic began to rise. She knew something was terribly amiss but could not pinpoint what it could be. "Granny?" she called again, much louder and frightened, "It's me, Mallory."

Her feet lead her to her grandmother's bedroom tucked away in the back of the cottage. Maybe she was unwell and had fallen asleep earlier. As soon as Mallory stepped in the room, a terrible, ugly growl was unleashed. She caught sight of her grandmother's bloody mangled body hanging off the bed and horrified gasp fell from her lips. Something rushed at her and she fell to her hands and knees, she felt fur and more blood on the floor.

She heard another growl, this one much closer to her. It was too dark in the cottage, Mallory could barely see her hands in front of her face. Fear had seized her. This creature, a monstrous wolf of some sort, had found its way into her grandmother's home and killed her. She was completely alone and unsure of how to defend herself. The creature encircled her, pacing around and growling. Mallory felt warm tears on her face but swallowed down her grief. Tears would not warrant her survival. She fumbled forward, hoping she might find something to use as a weapon. She was sure the creature was about to growl again and devour her whole until a louder and far more fearsome growl echoed in her ears.

Mallory turned to see another creature making its way into her grandmother's room; this one much larger and covered in black fur. The two wolves pounced on each other, roaring and biting. Horrible sounds of tearing apart flesh and fur, as well as bones cracking. She moved further and further into the corner of her the bedroom, incredulous of what she was actually witnessing.

A sudden snap and the first wolf fell to the floor with a thud. Mallory looked up into the eyes of the other one, its golden eyes focused solely on her. She covered her mouth with a hand to stop her cries. The wolf tilted its head and then violent shake started to take over its body, more sounds of bones cracking and a horrified scream followed.

Suddenly, the wolf wasn't really a wolf anymore. A man had taken its place. He barely moved but Mallory could see he was still breathing. Making a split-second decision, she ran towards the door and into the kitchen. She rummaged around, knocking over things, searching for a knife. In the moments it took her to find one, the man had followed her in silence.

She could not react, she could not think, before her body was pinned against the wall. A strong, warm hand clenched around her throat. She gasped for air and looked into the eyes of the wolf who had grabbed her. His eyes flashed that golden color once more before returning to a more natural blue. A smile graced his face, both lovely and lethal.

"Who are you?" she hissed against the pressure on her windpipe.

The man – wolf creature, whatever he was – didn't respond to her question right away. There was blood on his hands now slowly dripping down her neck onto her clothes. A frown replaced his smile. Tantalizingly slowly, he released the grip on her throat. Mallory sputtered forward, coughing and wheezing, embarrassment and fear piercing through her.

He was handsome, sharp cheekbones and his hair a golden blonde. His voice didn't sound like she expected, it was much quieter and almost sweet, "I'm no one."

"W-Why spare me?" she asked, cursing herself for the tremor in her voice

The man eyed her carefully, and it was then Mallory realized he was completely naked. She blushed ferociously and turned her face away. His hand reached towards her again, a finger traced down the side of her neck, and she shivered.

"You must think I'm a monster," he cocked his head, inquisitive, strangely like a child or an animal in his curiosity.

She swallowed a lump in her throat, pushed down the pain in her heart, "I don't know what to think of you. I don't even know what you are."

He rested his thumb at the hollow of her throat and so she lifted her head in defiance.

"You have such strange eyes," she told him, unsure what possessed her to speak again.

"Good for seeing strange girls," he replied with a deadly smile.

With that, he let go of her throat and stepped past her. Mallory shivered again as his shoulder brushed hers. It felt like the whole ordeal since entering her grandmother's cottage had been a terrible dream.

He stopped at the front door. "I like your cloak," he told her before disappearing into the dark night.

Once she was sure he was gone for good, Mallory slid to the floor and started to weep.

-

Mallory could barely spend time in the village once she returned with the news that her grandmother had been killed. The men were more curious than concerned and the women were only as sympathetic as their superiority allowed them to be (not very much). Mallory buried her grandmother in back of her cottage. The reverend came with her to say a few words. She found the gesture kind but ultimately meaningless.

Making the decision to move to her grandmother's was easy, the two of them had always been outsiders in the village anyway. Mallory's parents had died years before, and she made her living working as a housemaid for a few families. She didn't enjoy it as much as these families had taken pity on her. Living on her own was not a frightening prospect. She thoroughly cleaned and scrubbed the cottage floor to ceiling after that whole bloody ordeal had taken place. Nothing was going to ruin the home she had loved since she was a child, not even wolves in the shape of men from the forest.

-

For a fortnight after, Mallory dreamed of him, of the sharpness of his smile, of the blood on his lips and fingers. She couldn't say if they were nightmares or not, if they were what caused her sweat to run cold, or if it was because of the howling that woke her in the dead of night.

There was a storm brewing one particular night when she shook herself awake. Half-expecting to see the wolf-man at the foot of the bed, she was disappointed upon realizing she was alone. She pulled the quilt with her from the bed, lighting a candle as she made her way through the cottage. Wind whistled from outside and sleet poured from the night sky.

She threw more wood on the fire that was nearly burnt out, but as she reached for another log, she felt an eerie presence of something, or someone. She turned towards the window, peering into the dark, the trees flanking the forest. Curiosity getting the best of her, Mallory swung open the front door, a brash coldness sweeping into her home.

"I know you're out there," she called, amazed at how calm she sounded. "I'm not afraid." The only response was the wind.

"You may come in, if you like," she continued, "It's much warmer." She stood there for a few minutes longer, watching and waiting. With a sigh, she turned to shut the door when a foot stopped her from completing the task.

The blonde-haired man stood in the doorway, staring at Mallory intently. He was clothed this time, in black breeches and a black tunic, although he was barefoot. They sat down across from each other next the fire. She handed him a quilt to warm himself with, but he only draped it awkwardly across his lap.

She spoke first, "I'm Mallory." His eyes roamed her face with that eerie intensity. She didn't know if she loathed it or was enticed by it.

"Michael."

She smiled, and he slowly returned it.

-

Mallory had given Michael a kindness he had yet to experience. They ended up spending a lot of time together. He would come by most nights, barefoot and often disheveled. They would eat and talk. It was the least lonely Mallory had ever been. Each night Michael visited her, she longed for him to accompany her to bed. He never made a move to follow her though and he was always gone in the morning when she woke.

A full moon was making its way in the night sky as Mallory walked home. She had spent most of her day in the village, visiting friends and shopping, and had lost track of time. She hadn't seen Michael the past few nights and was growing increasingly anxious to see him again. The path to the cottage no longer frightened her as it once had. If anything, she felt safe, with the knowledge that Michael was out there watching over her. She had yet to see him as a wolf again. It intrigued her mostly, despite the shiver that ran along her spine when thinking of him devouring that other wolf.

Once home, she gently touched the wind chimes on the front porch, in hope that Michael might hear and come by. Hours passed, during which Mallory ate dinner alone once more and sat by the fire, needlepoint in hand. She was distracted though; her hands and legs were restless, until she heard a howl outside.

She stood up, ran to the door and threw it open. Outside there was a massive black wolf with golden eyes watching her.

"Michael," she said in awe.

He answered with another howl. She laughed and reached a hand out to touch him. He bent his head and allowed her to pet behind his ears.

"I missed you," she told him, hoping he understood. He nuzzled her hand in response.

-

The next morning when Mallory awoke, she wasn't alone in her bed. She could feel another warm body next to her. Heart in her throat, she turned to see Michael asleep beside her. Running her fingers over his hair and cheek, she smiled to herself watching him wake up.

Michael's voice was husky in the morning, "Mallory." He nipped at her fingers then pulled her flush against him. 

He gripped her hips and brought them down closer to his, grinding up against her. She gasped, gripping his shoulders tightly. They grinded against each other teasingly for a while.

"I've never done this," he whispered against her ear.

She kissed him hard and nipped at his bottom lip. "Me neither," she whispered back, unable to keep the excitement from her voice.

Mallory's nightgown was thrown off her body in a rush. Michael's lips desperate to kiss every inch of her he could reach. Her hands slid down his body, finding his length and gripping it, hoping he would understand her urgency. He smirked against her collarbone. She gripped his shoulders as he slid inside her, crying out softly when his cock filled her.

"Michael…" she whimpered softly. Her head fell back when a moan coursed through her. He grinned with a shadow of arrogance, kissing her exposed neck. Her hips shifted, and she began to ride him in earnest.

He held her hips to deepen his thrusts and she melted over him. Michael smirked again, his sharp teeth glinting in a way that made Mallory nearly lose her mind. She held tight to him, her arms slung around his neck, as he climaxed inside her. She followed shortly after, her nails digging into his shoulder blades. They kissed languidly as they both came down from their high.

Mallory pulled back after a moment and brushed Michael's bangs from his forehead. Her fingertips traced along his jaw, thumb ghosted over his cheek like he was made of glass. She felt him press into her hand, but he didn't say anything, he didn't move any further and his eyelids didn't even flutter. She just smiled, small and warm, and tucked some of those loose blonde strands behind his ear.

He wasn't a wolf all the time. Sometimes he was a man with a handsome face. She loved him either way.


	2. epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally I wanted to add some of Michael's POV to this story but I kept struggling with where to put it. But then I realized I could add a little epilogue. I've been having some writer's block with my other fairytale AUs for this ship but I think writing this has helped a bit. It's not very long but I tried :)

Michael didn't always feel like an animal around Mallory. Her tenderness towards him blossomed into his own tenderness towards her. Sometimes he had to be so careful not to grab her too roughly or hold her too tightly, for fear she might cry out in pain. He never wanted her to flinch away from him; he lived in fear of that too. That one day Mallory would realize he was a dangerous beast, capable of swallowing her whole, and she'd run far away from him. But he was still a wolf; he couldn't fully shed his nature. While he loved holding Mallory gently and kissing her softly, he still had an unrelenting desire to crowd his whole body around hers and sink his teeth into her neck, leave a mark on her for everyone to see.

Lying beside each other in bed, Mallory stretched languidly like a cat and nuzzled her face against Michael's neck. She was only half-awake, pressed a light kiss against his pulse point. She was so sweet. The scent of her drove him wild. He placed a hand around the back of her neck and pressed their mouths together. He saw her eyes go wide for a moment until she sighed, opening her mouth to meet his eager kisses. His tongue slid in and the moan she released went straight to his groin. The instincts inside him screaming to _bite mark claim_. His teeth tugged her bottom lip a little harshly and she gasped. Pulling away, he saw a smear of blood across her lips. She seemed not to mind the wound, her eyes hazy with lust and her hands clutching his shoulders.

All he wanted was to overpower her, pin her beneath him and make her unravel.

"Michael," his name passed through her lips as a sigh.

He quirked an eyebrow, "Yes?"

"I have to get up," she said dreamily.

"Do you now?"

"I really do."

Her hands came up to frame his face, her thumb resting just by his bottom lip, and he nipped at the finger. A giggle burst out of her. Pressing a soft kiss against her jaw, he slowly pulled back from her, untangling their limbs. She sighed again although despondently this time. He allowed himself to smirk. He was making her insatiable.

Michael's eyes followed Mallory as she stood and attempted to gather herself together. He watched her dress for the day, a simple red and gray frock, along with her matching red cloak. There was still a blush gracing her cheeks. Their eyes met and before Mallory could bid him goodbye, he pounced on her. Gripping her hips and pressing his body flush against hers, he tugged her back on the bed. He pinned her beneath him, their bodies becoming entangled once more. Michael laughed darkly as Mallory at first wriggled around in his arms before pouting and then chuckling herself.

She smacked his arm, "You brute!"

His eyes flashed gold and her breath caught a little. Not in fear, never in fear again. As if he could ever harm her.

"I could just eat you up," he found himself saying out loud.

Mallory tilted her head. The declaration didn't seem to frighten or surprise her. "Maybe I'd let you," she told him, her hands greedily roaming along his torso. They resumed their kissing with much more heat. His kisses far more aggressive, he couldn't help his teeth from nipping at her skin, leaving marks along her throat and collarbones. The clothes she had just dressed in moments before were hastily stripped off her body.

When he was heading further down her body, desperate to reach her center and bring her pleasure, Mallory spoke again, her voice wrecked, "Would you ever bite me?"

Something possessive and primal unfurled inside him. _Yes, yes_ , his mind screamed. _Bite her, make her yours forever_. He shook his head. She tried to hide her hurt, her hazel eyes silently questioning.

"It's painful. Excruciating," he said, "And sometimes people don't survive it."

Letting those last words set in, Michael rubbed circles against her sides, careful not to tickle her. He loved her like this, soft underneath him, warm and safe, wholly his. "A bite wouldn't make you anymore mine," he added. Her own eyes flashed with something akin to reverence.

In a surprising and quick maneuver, she sat up and pulled his face to her own. She kissed him with purpose, with claim and promise. As if to say _I am yours and you are mine, and we shall never be apart_.

His mind and heart cried out one word; _Mate_. His beautiful, fearless Mallory with her red cloak and bright eyes.


End file.
